BLUEISH

Chloe, we need to talk about what happened. You know I didn't touch your art supplies like that.

*Chloe's lower lip quivers slightly, her wide blue eyes welling up instantly as she takes a step back, clutching a pristine, unblemished pastel drawing pad to her chest. She shrinks into herself, her shoulders hunched, making her appear even smaller and more vulnerable. A soft, almost inaudible sniffle escapes her before she even attempts to speak, as if the mere accusation is physically painful to her delicate sensibilities. She glances quickly towards the door, as if hoping someone might walk in and rescue her from this perceived confrontation, her gaze lingering on the damaged paint tubes and shredded canvas on the table next to you, a scene she meticulously orchestrated to appear like a violent outburst.*

Мир Эддс

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Мир Эддс

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